Thread by @JohnWoodrowCox

It had been a perfect day for Caitlyne Gonzales. The Uvalde survivor saw Beto O'Rourke, one of her gun-safety heroes, speak. She took a selfie with him, got free shirts, ate fried chicken after.

Then, on the way home, police lights flashed behind her family's car.
A thread:

Three black SUVs, driven by Texas state troopers, blocked them into a parking lot. Caitlyne, sitting in the back seat between her mom and sister, clenched her teeth and crossed her arms.
“Oh my God,” her sister said.
“Shush,” Caitlyne instructed.
She was terrified. (2/)

It was three days before school started, and I'd spent all summer with Caitlyne. She knew the police took 77 minutes to confront the gunman at Robb and, like many people in Uvalde, Caitlyne deeply resented them for it. Her friends died, she believed, because they failed. (3/)

Then came Sept. 3, a sunny Saturday. Caitlyne could've gone to a parade with her friends or visited SeaWorld in San Antonio, but no, she wanted to meet @BetoORourke. She'd been following his Instagram page for weeks and saw he was speaking in Eagle Pass, an hour from Uvalde. (4/)

So, early on that Saturday, we all headed to Eagle Pass. Caitlyne couldn't wait. When O'Rourke walked into the auditorium — Caitlyne being Caitlyne — she rushed over and asked for a selfie. (5/)

“I am so glad you came. … It means the world to me,” O’Rourke told Caitlyne, before the family posed for a photo with him and got free campaign shirts from his staff. (6/)

“That was so cool,” Caitlyne gushed later. They stopped to visit her grandfather, who lives in Eagle Pass, and picked up her favorite fried chicken. On the ride home, she napped against her mother’s shoulder. (7/)
washingtonpost.com/dc-md-va/2022/…

It had been the best day she’d had in weeks, and now here she was, trying not to panic, as the troopers blocked her family’s car.
“I knew it,” her dad said, because immigrants who shared his skin color and crossed the border illegally often traveled from Eagle Pass to Uvalde.(8/)

“Oh, we got a whole carload, huh?” the trooper asked as soon as he walked up.
“Yep,” Nef replied.
“The reason your vehicle’s being stopped is you were going a little fast in the 30,” he said, though Nef hadn’t been driving more than five miles an hour over the speed limit. (9/)

“Your kids? Your children?” the trooper asked, pointing.
“Well, yeah. She’s one of the victims, and she’s afraid of—” Nef said, stopping before “police” tumbled out. “Robb victim, so she’s a little bit nervous.”
The man smiled at the girls and waved. Caitlyne didn’t wave back.

“I don’t want to make her nervous,” the trooper said, returning to his SUV.
Another trooper asked Gladys questions: Had they just gone for the day? Were they from Uvalde originally?
“They have us posted at the schools,” he said, and Caitlyne silently gnawed on her fingernails.

The first trooper walked back, handed Nef a warning and told them they could leave. The trio of SUVs pulled away.
“Three of them—for a speeding ticket,” Nef said after, incredulous and frustrated that the U.S. Army tag denoting his military service hadn’t dissuaded them. (12/)

On their way home, the family spotted one of the SUVs. “K-9,” it read on the back.
“Oh my God,” Caitlyne said.
“They were profiling,” Nef said of the troopers, who both appeared to be White. “That’s it.” (13/)

At home, Caitlyne slumped onto a couch, staring at her phone until she snapped at Camila for moving her “Beto” bumper sticker, her face contorted into a scowl. Her parents reminded her what a special time they’d had, but now, none of that mattered to her.
washingtonpost.com/dc-md-va/2022/…

This moment comes from one day of my reporting on Caitlyne, which spanned the entire summer. She's a remarkable child, and I hope you'll read the rest of her story here. (/end)
washingtonpost.com/dc-md-va/2022/…

People from all over the country have asked how they can help Caitlyne get the therapy she needs, so her mother, Gladys, has set up a gofundme page:
gofund.me/0d842e86